There was a question about the squire....thanks for asking...
Dear Squire,
You are the upheaval of olden language found in our poems. Our golden time machine. Logically this may not compute(grr). You have a future, and I am asking you to see into our future: its ore, whether profitable or extractable. Profit's a retrofitted disaster (more on that later). We is problematic, but I keep trying. No. This is nothing like my other poems.
Your servant,
2006
